Denials
by angimal
Summary: Before Arus and Voltron, Keith and Lance were students at the Space Academy near San Francisco. As graduation nears, their lives take a series of unexpected turns. Non-graphic, sometimes unrequited slash. OOC at times. **REVISED 2/23/13**
1. Chapter 1

**Addendum (2/23/13): **Republished after some clean-up work, especially on later chapters. No major plot changes.

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><p><strong>AN: **Wow, writing this piece has been a journey for me in so many ways—mentally, emotionally, and physically (I wrote parts of it during a recent road trip).

Thank you to Sybil Rowan for beta reading. Your encouragement is much appreciated. Also thank you to Harmony for boosting my ego. Finally, arigato to Kogane Akira for the Japanese translations.

Disclaimer: WEP owns Voltron.

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><p><strong>Denials<strong>

**Location: North American Space Academy, San Francisco and surrounding counties**

People think I'm uptight because I usually choose not to drink alcohol when I go out. It's not that I don't ever drink; I just don't see the need to imbibe vast quantities simply for the sake of getting drunk. Okay, that does sound a bit prudish. The truth is I'd rather not wake up in the middle of the night with extreme nausea and painful stomach cramping. Go alcohol allergy. So, to save myself from later misery, I tend to avoid the alcohol altogether.

Lance, on the other hand, seems to be a permanent sponge for the stuff. He's never just the life of the party; he usually is the party. That man has a tolerance to alcohol like no one else, which is funny because he's so skinny. You'd think it would go straight to his head and knock him out based on the way he drinks. But it doesn't. He attributes it to his high metabolism, claiming his liver works doubly fast as anyone else's. Wouldn't surprise me. He's fast at everything—running, driving, eating, flying. He's one of the best damn pilots I know.

Not only can he move fast, he can also think fast. I suppose that's what makes him such a great pilot. Trouble is, he doesn't consider every consequence of his decisions, and that's landed him in trouble more times than I can remember. But his charm and smooth talking usually get him out of sticky situations.

Lance is also a ladies' man. At least, that's what he wants you to believe. Every week it seems like there's a new girl or two on his arms. He's proud of others thinking he has a list a mile long of women he has banged, but I know better. More often than not he passes out with a girl in bed before doing as much as taking her top off. Both are too hung-over in the morning to realize nothing actually happened. And it's not just the women that fall at Lance's feet. I've caught plenty of men ogling him, too. I would notice that because I'm the one usually looking at them.

Yeah, I'm gay, and I'm out. Most people are supportive, and the ones that aren't I luckily don't often have to work with. I've had my share of relationships, but none have lasted too long. I finally came to realize why—I'm in love with Lance and have been for some time. We've been best friends since day one of freshmen year at the Academy when we were placed as roommates. They say opposites attract; well, we're about as opposite as you can get. Lance loves losing control and being the center of attention. I'm the control freak who makes a point to find quiet and solitude. But somehow, we just click.

Being close to him presents me with another fascinating revelation: Lance is gay. Sure, he denies it; he's been so conditioned by the conservative little town he grew up in that he would deny anything that could cause his parents grief. I've tried to convince him otherwise, but he just replies with some snarky comment like, "Keith, I think your gay-dar is off tonight." "Takes one to know one," I would say in response. He would just slap my back and ruffle up my hair. "Which one of your buddies wants to have his way with me now?"

He always assumed that was the reason I brought it up. But I've caught him staring at men before. And he always laughs a little too much in response to dick jokes. God forbid I ever show him a gay porno. He asked me about gay sex a couple times before. Of course, it was only "research for a friend." I angrily told him if he really wanted to know what it was like just stick a banana up his ass. I swear he blushed a bit, almost like he had thought about doing it before.

I once invited him to a gay bar I frequented with friends. Now before you get all shocked that I would go to such an establishment, let me emphasize that there are gay bars where you go to pick someone up for the night and there are gay bars where you go to just hang out with your friends, gay or otherwise. This was one of the latter kind. I sipped on one glass of wine all night long, while Lance downed a drink about every 30 minutes. Typical.

At one point a man who had been eyeing Lance all night approached our group. He introduced himself as Todd and found a seat next to Lance, who, being as inebriated as he was, moved over and welcomed him with open arms. Todd joined our conversation quite casually, but I kept noticing his body language towards Lance. If something funny was said, he laughed and patted Lance's thigh. Lance even blushed a bit at the contact. Eventually, Todd seemed comfortable enough to leave it on Lance's knee, and Lance made no move to protest. They soon struck up their own conversation. Lance succumbed to his charm and began flirting with him as well. Before I knew it Todd leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on Lance's lips.

Now, I should have been happy for Lance, right? Maybe he was finally accepting the truth about his homosexuality. Instead my protective instincts churned up. Was I actually jealous? It never bothered me when Lance flirted with women. Maybe I just wanted his first man to be special—someone I knew and trusted, like me.

After downing several more drinks together, Todd stood and offered his hand to Lance, who accepted. My anger rose.

Lance said his good-byes to the group, but I pulled him aside before he left. "Are you sure you know what you're doing, Lance?"

"Keith, my friend, I have this totally under control. Todd and I are just going for a breath of fresh air."

_Fresh air? Bullshit._

"Just…be careful. Call me if you need anything, okay?"

"Relax, bro, it's all good."

He patted my shoulder and left the bar as I stared after him, confused.


	2. Chapter 2

I tried to sleep that night, but the fact Lance never made it back to the room had me concerned. Why was I concerned? He was gone almost every weekend, and I never worried before.

I must have fallen asleep at some point because the next thing I remember was my phone ringing several hours later. It was Lance.

"Keith? Can you pick me up?"

"Yeah, where are you," I sighed. It wasn't the first time he called early in the morning for a ride home.

I made sure to bring his hoodie and sunglasses—the necessary garb for a hangover and a walk of shame. I pulled up to the corner and watched him stagger to the car. He immediately tossed on the hoodie and sunglasses as he settled in. The hood was pulled over his eyes as far as it could go.

"Rough night?" I asked sardonically.

"Just take me home," he mumbled.

He passed out on his bed as soon as we entered our dorm room.

**x~x~X~x~x**

"What the hell were you thinking letting me go off with a man? Are you nuts?" Lance shouted, pacing around the room

"I asked you if you were okay with it. You didn't seem to mind at the time."

"Shit, Keith…he had sex with me!"

"I gathered that would happen."

"What the fuck? And you didn't stop me? You know I don't go that way!"

"There's a first time for everything," I replied dryly.

"Fuck! My ass kills! No one can know about this, got it?"

"I won't say anything. That doesn't mean everyone else who was at the bar last night won't."

"Shit. What am I going to do?"

"Take a warm bath?"

"Go to hell!"

He flopped down on his bed and screamed into his pillow. My attitude softened seeing him so vulnerable. I sat down next to him and placed my hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't realize you'd be so…traumatized."

"My parents are going to disown me for this. What am I going to do without my family?"

"They won't find out, Lance."

"Bullshit! As soon as they visit campus someone is going to tell them. I'm ruined!"

"Listen, I'll make some calls. My friends aren't the vengeful type anyway. I'll help clear this up for you, okay?"

"You'd really do that? Even after all the shit I put you through?"

"You're my best friend, Lance. I'm supposed to put up with all your shit."

Lance sniffled and smiled at me. "Thanks, Keith. You really are a great friend."

I patted his back. "Why don't you go take a warm shower to relax. It'll help with the pain. And use some Vaseline for a few days."

Lance smirked. "I love you, bro."

"I love you, too, Lance." I really meant it.

"Oh, and Keith? NEVER let me do that again."

Lance must have healed emotionally and physically pretty quickly because, by the next day, he was running around and acting like nothing happened. Boy, he was in denial.

**x~x~X~x~x**

That lovely incident happened around midterm of our final semester.

Two weeks later I was starting to prepare for finals. Another reason I was called a prude: I liked to study on the weekends. It was the one time the library was decently quiet enough to focus without the annoying sounds blasting from "sound proof" headphones.

I was seated at my desk in our room reviewing battle formations. It would be a quiet for once since Lance would be out doing God-knows-what-or-who. I turned to look something up on the computer when Lance, bubbly as always, came back to the room for final evening preparations. In other words, he forgot his condoms.

"Come out with us tonight, Keith. We only have a few more weeks before we're shipped off to some kind of training. Enjoy the freedom while you can," he coaxed.

"I'm good. Thanks anyway."

"You're loss. Have fun…studying."

"Hey, why do you ask me to go out every weekend when you know that ninety-nine percent of the time I say no?"

He shrugged. "Cause you'd be upset if I didn't ask? Plus there's always that one percent chance you'll say yes."

He made me smile. "How about we go out after finals. One last night on the town before it all ends."

"It's a date," he replied. "Catch ya later!"

"Yeah, have fun. You know my number."

**x~x~X~x~x**

I crammed all night and eventually passed out at my desk. (Hey, trying to learn through osmosis never hurt anyone.) My phone sounded with Lance's ring tone, and I was up grabbing his sunglasses and hoodie before I even answered the call. "What's the address," I answered, knowing why he was calling.

I stopped in my tracks with my mouth wide open when he provided me with the location of Todd's place again. "I'll be right there," I grumbled.

What the hell was he doing with Todd again, especially after his breakdown two weeks earlier?

I picked him up, but remained cold the entire time. He spoke first, a shocker since he never noticed much of anything the morning after. "Keith? You okay?"

I bit my tongue and continued to scowl. There was no need to duke it out with him this early in the morning.

When we returned to campus, I was too infuriated to fall back asleep, so I packed my T'ai Chi uniform, tossed on my sweats, and went for a long run.

My destination was a secluded spot in a park on the bay. It was early enough that the sea breeze still steadily blew inland. I changed clothes and focused on my exercises, especially my breathing. Tension transformed into tranquility, and I sat comfortably on the ground for meditation. I inhaled the fresh, cleansing air and exhaled my frustrations away. Well, I tried to.

During my T'ai Chi practice I was mentally occupied with the movements that my thoughts stayed in check. Now that I tried to focus on nothing but my breathing, my brain was flooded with annoyance, jealousy, and anger towards Lance. I was also feeling guilty and ashamed for being so upset with him. He was a good friend, and whatever he wanted to do with his sexual life I didn't care. He was smart enough to wear protection and get regular screenings. Plus, like I said before, at least half the time nothing actually happened.

I never cared much when he went off with women. So why was him seeing Todd, a man, bothering me? Didn't I always know he was gay? Hadn't I tried to convince him of it, even try to set him up once or twice? Isn't the fact that he's exploring his feelings with a man a good thing? Except the man is not me—the man who loves him. I stared out at the lake, wondering how this all would turn out.

**x~x~X~x~x**

By the time I returned to the dorm, Lance was awake nursing his hangover by alternately drinking ice cold water and hot, black coffee. Don't ask; I just figured if it worked for him, great. He was studying flight mechanics in bed, wearing only a pair of sweatpants. I averted my eyes from his toned form in order to make a cohesive sentence. "How was last night?" I asked listlessly.

"Fine, I think," he said softly. "I don't remember much."

I glanced at him briefly, noticing the twisted confusion on his face. I looked away again, gathering my shower supplies. "So, you and Todd an item now?"

Bad question. I heard a sob behind me and turned to see Lance holding his head with one hand and the cup of coffee shaking in the other hand. "What the hell is wrong with me, Keith?"

_Shit. Here we go again._ Did I mention he never had these breakdowns until Todd came into the picture? Lance was about as happy-go-lucky—cocky more like it—as you could get, even if he royally screwed something up. I never had to deal with this side of him before. I sat down next to him and took the coffee away, setting it aside. I moved the book off his lap and placed my hand on his knee. Not sure exactly how to begin (hell, I'm not a psychologist), I just said the first thing that came to mind. "Did he hurt you?"

"Fuck, no. I knew what I was doing. So why they hell would I do this again? This isn't me. This isn't normal!"

I was livid. He had no idea what he just said. "Not normal?" I stressed the last word with as much anger as I could.

"Shit, that's not what I meant. It's not normal for me. What the hell was I thinking?"

"Fifty bucks says you weren't."

"Go to hell!" It seemed to be his expression of choice recently.

"Look, maybe you should start cutting back on the alcohol. It's obviously not helping the situation."

"I'm usually so much more in control when I drink. I don't get it."

"You've been drinking a lot more than usual, you know."

"That explains the low bank account. Alright, cut back on the booze."

"And if you need one, there's a free counselor on campus."

"Why would I need to see a counselor?" He sounded perturbed.

"It's just a suggestion. You're the one complaining about how something's wrong with you. The counselor can help you figure that out."

"Thanks, but no thanks. Shrinks freak me out."

I threw my arms up in frustration. I figured seeing a counselor might actually help him come to terms with his feelings. "Have it your way." I grabbed my bathroom kit and stormed out to the showers. By the time I returned, Lance was gone.

**x~x~X~x~x**

He didn't cut back on his drinking. Every time I met him for lunch on campus during the week I could weakly smell alcohol on his breath. It was subtle, but it was there. He acted as his usual self. He was quick to answer questions correctly in class, even pointing out a critical mistake in one of the instructor's logic. He flew as gracefully as ever, and he dominated in hand-to-hand combat exercises. Nothing seemed different except for the flask I'd occasionally see him pull out of his uniform. I didn't get it. I had to confront him about it.

When I saw him take a swig during lunch, I finally brought it up. "I thought you were going to cut back on your drinking."

He tried to change the subject. "Did you see the look on Colonel Hoffman's face when I corrected him in class today? I mean, really, did he want us to skip off the planet's atmosphere on our return trajectories?"

"Lance, don't change the subject."

"How about you let me take care of my own problems, Kogane," he snapped back before grabbing his tray to sit somewhere else.

"Lance, don't. Where are you going?"

"Obviously away from you, Dr. Kogane, therapist at large."

He stormed off before I could say another word. I felt defeated. I picked at my food a bit before my lack of appetite got the better of me and left for my next class.

**x~x~X~x~x**

Finals week arrived. From what I could gather, Lance had seen Todd at least two more times since our lunch argument. But that was by word of mouth. We hadn't spoken much since then, other than going over the material for the exams.

He often kept to himself, brooding for hours on end. His friends became concerned and would ask me what was going on. I just lied and said someone he was close to in his family recently died, and he was taking it especially hard. He never did question me as to why he started receiving sympathy cards.

I noticed his liquor collection was growing. It seemed like every day there was a new bottle added to the pile. Most were half empty as it was. At one point I became so sickened by it that when he was out, I poured each one out into the sink and recycled the empty bottles. Big mistake.

"What the fuck, Kogane? Where the hell did you put my liquor?"

"I threw it out. I can't sit here and watch you do this to yourself! What the hell is going on with you? Where's the Lance I used to know?"

He grabbed me by the shirt and pushed me into the wall. My head cried in pain after it hit particularly hard. "I told you to let me deal with my problems on my own. Next time I catch you interfering, you're a dead man. Got it?"

His breath reeked. "Okay, I promise I won't do this again," I choked out.

I would have said anything at that point to have him release me.

His nostrils flared and his eyes bore into mine. I could feel the tears well up in my eyes. He finally let go and headed out. "I'm going to the store."

That was the last straw. I called a friend that lived off campus and asked if I could stay with him for the remaining few days of class. The next thing I knew, I was packing my bags and leaving. At least I'd have a few days of peace before it was all over.

I really should have reported the incident, but what good would it have done? Graduation was a week away, and the last thing I wanted was for Lance to have a harassment report on his record so close to the end. I just couldn't do that to him.


	3. Chapter 3

Graduation day. It took four years of working our asses off to reach it, but we did it. And with flying colors, I might add. Yours truly walked across the stage with a Suma Cum Laude stamp on his diploma. Top of the class. Of course, no one was surprised. They all said I deserved it based on my dedication to my studies. Still, I was glowing with delight.

Lance actually looked good. He was smiling and laughing again, and there wasn't a hint of alcohol on his breath. Maybe he finally realized he needed to clean up his act. Though he didn't receive as high caliber academic scores as me, he graduated with top flight honors—best pilot in our class. It was a no-brainer. His skills came naturally; he was born to fly.

After the ceremony he walked up to me and lowered his head as he spoke. "Listen, Keith…I'm…I just wanted to say…I'm sorry for treating you the way I did. I wasn't in my right head. Shit, I haven't been in my right head for the past month. But I'm better now. I've cleaned up. I hope you can forgive me."

He looked up at me through his too-long bangs. I smiled back. "Of course I can forgive you, Lance. You're my best friend. It killed me to see you like that."

We embraced as only two bros can—a giant bear hug and with strong pats on the back. Cameras flashed all around us. We turned to see our families taking pictures of us, so we posed, some silly, some serious. At one point Lance planted a sloppy kiss on my cheek. I jokingly pushed him away but secretly wished that kiss had been on my lips. I still loved him, no matter what kind of mess he made of himself in the last month.

As we continued to pose for the cameras with several other friends, Colonel Petersen approached. We immediately stiffened and saluted, which he returned. "At ease, Cadets…or should I say Lieutenants Kogane and McClain?"

He firmly shook each of our hands. "Congratulations, gentlemen. Never have I seen two such exemplary pilots in our program. You both worked hard to earn your commendations."

"Thank you, sir!" we both replied.

"Have you thought about what you will do now that you have graduated from the Academy?"

"We will serve our galaxy in whatever capacity they will have us, sir," I replied honorably.

"As long as we get to fly, sir," Lance added.

The colonel grinned brightly. "And you, Lt. McClain, has your…mood…improved from this past month?" He chose his words carefully.

"Yes, sir. I had a few complications in my life, but they are sorted out now."

"Good to hear. I want both of you to report to my office Monday morning at 0800 hours. There is a special project I would like the two of you to be involved with."

Lance and I beamed at each other upon hearing the news. "Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!" I replied.

He shook our hands and saluted once more before heading off to talk to other graduates.

"Can you believe that? Petersen wants to talk to us personally about an assignment!" Lance exclaimed.

"Believe it; we earned it," I answered before being bombarded by more hugs and camera flashes.

**x~x~X~x~x**

Later that evening the campus was buzzing with parties. Lance and I spent the evening at the campus club house. A student-formed band blasted through the walls of the building. I sat on the arm of a couch with a group of friends, while Lance worked on dance floor, already having made out with at least two women. Sweaty from dancing, he approached our group and handed a beer to me while taking a chug of his own. I gratefully accepted my first drink of the evening and carefully mentioned, "I thought you quit drinking."

"I said I _cleaned_ up. I didn't say I _dried_ up. C'mon, you know I'm the life the party! And besides, we're celebrating. Don't worry, I'll keep it under control," he winked.

I clanked his bottle with my own. "To entering the real world!" I toasted.

"To the future!" he toasted back.

**x~x~X~x~x**

A few hours later I had my fill of partying. I actually had two beers. A few stomach cramps in the middle of the night was worth it for good times with friends who I won't get to see much anymore. As I was getting ready to leave, Lance saw me heading over to the door and stumbled in my direction. So much for keeping it under control. "Hey, don't go yet. The party's just getting started," he slurred.

"Maybe for you, but I'm all partied out."

"Are you staying on campus tonight?"

"Yeah, I was going to see if someone would put me up for the night."

"Hey, I have an idea! I have an extra bed in my room cause this former roommate of mine decided to move off campus. Wanna use it?"

I laughed. "Sounds good. The only problem is your former roommate already turned his key in."

"Pfft…what an idiot. How's about I walk you there, tuck you in, kiss you g'night, and then head back to the fun?" he suggested.

I agreed. He draped his arm over my shoulders and was about to drag me outside when a voice shouted across the room. "McClain! You're not leaving already, are you?"

"Nah, I'm just taking the wife home. I'll be back in a jiffy."

I just rolled my eyes as we walked out. "You know you're really the wife in this relationship," I mentioned.

"Yeah, but I got a reputation to hold up."

**x~x~X~x~x**

We made it back to the dorms with minimal stumbling by Lance. He unlocked the room and held the door open for me. The room was a complete disaster. Clothes—who knew if they were clean or dirty—were strewn across the room from light fixture to floor. Papers were spread across his bed along with several empty take-out containers. He rushed in and swiped a pile of his stuff off of my bed onto the floor. "Eh, sorry about the mess. You know how I get without you around."

I gritted my teeth, trying to calm my nerves about the mess. This was only for one night; I could handle it. "Yeah, it's okay. It's just one night. Hey, thanks for letting me crash here."

"It's still your room, too, Keith."

I looked around at the mess. "Yeah, my room," I moaned, shaking my head.

"I'm going back, okay? I'll see ya in the morning."

"Night."

He left and I made the best of the situation. I set the alarm on my phone, stripped down to my undershirt and boxer-briefs, and climbed into bed. Amazingly, the Academy-issued bedding was still clean.

**x~x~X~x~x**

Lance clumsily stumbled into the room at about 3 AM. I heard a girl giggling as he tried to shush her. "We have to be quiet. We don't want to wake Keith," he whispered hoarsely.

"Too late," I grumbled. "Want me to leave?" I offered, annoyed.

"Whoops!" the girl laughed.

"We'll pick this up later," he said to the girl, escorting her out of the room.

"Aw, but Lancey…" she pouted.

"Later!" he said again, closing and locking the door. "Oh thank God you woke up."

"Huh?" I asked, half asleep.

"I did not want to be with that girl tonight, but she stuck on me like a leach."

"Right," I yawned, flopping my head back down on the pillow. Having a conversation at 3 AM with my drunk friend was the last thing I wanted.

"No, I mean it. They call her the Academy Bunny cause she's slept with at least half of the guys on campus."

"And you avoided her how until now?"

"I have skills, Keith. I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong moment tonight."

"Whatever. Can I get back to sleep now?"

Lance stepped across the piles on the floor until he hovered over my bed. I stared up at his disheveled cranium. "Aw, am I keeping you awake?"

His drunken eyes bore into mine; something felt wrong. "Cut it out! Let me sleep."

I tried hitting him with my pillow, but he grabbed it and pulled it out of my hands. I was sitting upright at this point, and he continued to stare at me. "You know, you're cute when you get angry."

Without warning his lips were suddenly on mine, kissing me furiously. I pushed him back just as fast. "What the hell?" I yelled wiping my mouth of his liquor-infused slobber.

"Come on, Keith," his lips were by my ear. "You know you want it," he said trying to seduce me and nibbling on my earlobe.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I shouted, pushing him back once more. I pulled a blanket off of the bed, grabbed my pillow from the floor, and headed towards the door.

"Where the hell are you going?"

"Away from you!"

"Come on, you want me! No one turns down Lance McClain!"

"Fuck you!" I finally shouted, slamming the door behind me.

I ran down the hallway stairs to the first floor where I knew I could find a couch in the lounge. I leaned back against a wall for a moment, listening to see if he followed. When I heard nothing, I sighed heavily. Why did he have to do that? And why did I have to get hard from it? I peered down at the tent that formed in my underwear. "Fuck you," I whimpered, gently banging my head against the wall and feeling a tear trail down my cheek. I still don't know who I was saying it to: Lance, me, or my cock.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** This section has footnotes. You have been warned.

Also, the only Japanese phrases I know are _hai, konnichiwa, arigato,_ _domo arigato, tadaima, _and_ sayonara_. I have Kogane Akira to thank for the translations.

In this story I interpret Pidge to be a mix of his original version and his newest iteration. Really, the original Pidge was just so obnoxious. There, I said it. Now you know.

Also, I interpret Sven's accent to be nowhere nearly as thick as the original. Most Europeans learn the language pretty early on in life if their going to learn it.

Thanks for sticking with _Denials_. Enjoy part 4. :)

* * *

><p>I woke early despite the horrible night of sleep. Or rather, lack of sleep. That's the downside to having an accurate internal alarm clock—you never get to sleep in, even if you want to. My back ached from sleeping on the couch, but I trudged my way back up to the room to discover that Lance left it unlocked. I quietly snuck in the room, tossed on my clothes, grabbed my things, and left just as quietly. I probably didn't have to be so stealthy—Lance was sawing logs and drooling on his pillow.<p>

I headed back to my place off campus for a cleansing shower. Campus was already buzzing with graduates packing up cars to go back home or to be shipped off to their new assignments. What crazy new plans did the military have in line for Lance and me? Orders that were to be given by Petersen, no less.

After the purifying shower and clean clothes, I headed back to campus. Hopefully Lance had resurrected himself from his stupor of the previous night. I stopped by a coffee joint I knew he frequented. Surprise of surprises, he was there in a wooden booth with hot black coffee by one hand and ice cold water by the other. His tongue poked out slightly as he concentrated on texting someone. I felt my phone buzz a second later. _Up for a cup of joe?_

Apparently he hadn't noticed me standing in line. _Look up, you idiot._

He glanced up and smiled brightly. I brought over my cup of tea and sat across from him. I couldn't look him in the eyes. Not yet, at least. I needed to know what he remembered first.

"Dude, you look tired. Sleep okay?"

"Stomach cramps kept me up," I lied, seeing if he'd pick up.

"Bummer. I never heard you get up."

"I take it you slept well?" I probed.

"Yeah, but I had this fucked up dreamed that we made out. Crazy shit."

"Mm-hmm, crazy."

He didn't remember. Why bother telling him his "fucked up" dream really happened? It was an event I would rather forget. I continued, taking a sip of my tea. "So, what do you think they have in store for us tomorrow?"

"Who knows, but it's obviously coming straight from the top if Petersen is giving the orders."

"Think it's for the Garrison?"

"Fat chance, but it would be a pretty sweet deal if it was," he grinned, taking a gulp of his coffee and rinsing it down with water.

I was confident that whatever it was, it was going to be huge.

x~x~X~x~x

Monday morning arrived. Lance and I, wearing our standard issue uniforms, met outside Colonel Petersen's office door. "Look at you!" I chided about Lance's unusually polished look. "You shaved."

"You bet, bro. I even combed my hair," he mentioned, patting down on either side of his part. "If this is as big as we think it's going to be, I figured I better look the part."

"Colonel Petersen will see you now, gentlemen," his secretary announced, holding the door to his office open.

We entered and saluted. The colonel saluted back. "At ease, men. Please, have a seat," he motioned at the two chairs in front of his desk.

"I have requested your presence this morning due to your outstanding performance at the Academy. Never in all my days here have I seen two young cadets as dedicated and as accomplished as you, which is why it gives me great honor to offer you an assignment with the Galaxy Garrison."

Lance and I looked at each other, mouths agape. The Garrison rarely took cadets straight out of the Academy. "Sir, I don't know what to say."

"Are you sure we're qualified?" Lance added.

"There is no mistake. Sky Marshal Graham made the request himself after reviewing your files."

"What are the specifics of the assignment?"

"Lieutenants, the assignment I offer is no simple task. You will be gone for several years positioned in the middle of a war zone in the Denubian Galaxy should you choose to accept."

I was tongue-tied, heart racing into my throat. "This is a big decision, sir. The Denubian Galaxy is at the outermost edge of the Alliance. May we have some time to think it over?"

"I understand your concern, Lieutenant Kogane, but the Garrison is moving pretty quickly with this. I need your answers immediately."

"Sir, may I have a minute to confer privately with Lieutenant McClain?"

"Certainly."

We moved to the corner of the office and spoke quietly.

"Keith, when is an opportunity like this ever going to come up again?"

"I know, Lance, but that means being away from our friends, our families, and our home planet for years. Are you willing to sacrifice all of that for one mission?"

"Dude, that's why we have intergalactic communication systems. Plus, isn't this why we enrolled in the Academy to begin with? To be able to explore the universe and defend the peoples of the Alliance?"

A million thoughts rushed into my head as I tried to contemplate every benefit and consequence involved with this decision. I looked to Lance, whose face was brimming with excitement. Obviously, his decision had been made. Absorbing Lance's emanating confidence, I turned to Petersen. "Sir, it would be an honor for us to serve with the Galaxy Garrison. We accept the offer."

"Excellent," Colonel Petersen beamed, holding out a hand for both of to shake. "Then if you will, gentlemen, please follow me. We are to start immediately."

x~x~X~x~x

We followed him close at heel to a secure conference room. Three other people waited patiently at the immense wooden table that took up most of the room.

"Thank you for waiting gentlemen. I present the rest of your team. Lieutenant Keith Kogane graduated at the top of his class as well as received the highest honors of anyone to graduate from the Academy. Lieutenant Lance McClain is the best pilot we've had in over a century. Lieutenants, let me introduce you to your teammates."

I studied the faces of the three men before us. The colonel motioned to a large, muscular man with a mop of black hair. "This is First Tech Sergeant Tsuyoshi Garrett, master technician and engineer, expert on weapons and alien technologies."

"Call me Hunk," the large Asian man stood, shaking our hands with his overly firm grip.

"_O-genki desu ka_," I asked venturing a suspicion of his genealogy.

"_Genki desu. Anata wa_."

"_Genki desu_."

"_Ii desu. Kogane-san, anata wa Nihon-jin desu ka_."

"_Watashi no chichi wa Nihon-jin deshita. Garrett-san no ryōshin desu ka_."

"_Saa, watashi no haha wa Nihon-jin desu_."

"_Ii desu. Douzo yoroshiku_."

"_Douzo yoroshiku_."

"_Domo arigato gozaimasu_."*****

"Aw, did you two just have a Japanese moment?" Lance teased. I swore at him under my breath.

Next the colonel motioned to a young teen with auburn hair, freckles, and wire-rimmed glasses. "Who brought their kid to work?" Lance mocked.

The boy sneered at Lance. Colonel Petersen cleared his throat. "This is Second Lieutenant Darrell Stoker, information systems genius. He graduated top of his class at the Space Academy on Balto. Though he may be small, he is quite agile and an excellent marksman. Not to mention having the ability to hack into alien informations systems undetected."

Stoker glared at Lance. "I speak one language, Lieutenant—One Zero One Zero Zero One. With that I could steal your money, your secrets, your sexual fantasies, your whole life. Any country, any place, anytime I want. I couldn't think as slow as you if I tried."*** ***

"Got it. You're a computer whiz."

I smacked Lance on the arm. "You'll have to forgive my friend here. He's still learning the art of subtlety and tact. It is a pleasure to have you as part of the team, Stoker."

"I go by Pidge," he replied and slumped into his hands. Obviously this wasn't the first time someone berated him about his age.

"I'd keep an eye on your bank accounts for the next few days," I warned Lance.

"Yeah, but he won't find much," he muttered.

With their bantering over, Colonel Petersen moved on to the final man in the room. He was tall and had black hair similar to mine, but shorter. He sat unusually still with arms folded across his chest and a serious demeanor across his face. I couldn't stop staring at his dark eyes and chiseled jawline. "And this is Lieutenant Sven Holgersson from the European Union's Space Force, expert of the Denubian Galaxy."

"A pleasure to meet you," he spoke softly with a light Norwegian accent. Did I mention that I loved accents?

"In a moment we will launch a video conference with Space Marshal Graham. He will give you the details of your mission."

Lance and I sat next to each other, across from Hunk and Pidge. Pidge continued to glare at Lance as Hunk piled a plate with snacks that were set in the center of the table. Sven sat quietly at the end of the table as if in deep meditation. "Stop drooling, will ya?" Lance whispered to me. "You look like an idiot."

"What do you mean?"

"You've been eyeing the Norwegian ever since we entered the room."

It was true. Sven's handsome face had pulled me in. Though he had a serious disposition, it was softened by a Buddha-like stillness. I probably would have asked him out if he was gay…and if I wasn't already in love with Lance. I flushed and look down at the table.

Colonel Petersen fidgeted with the computer until Space Marshal Graham appeared on the screen in the front of the room. We stood and saluted; Graham returned the gesture. "Have a seat, men. I welcome you to your new positions with the Galaxy Garrison. We know we can expect only the best from you five men. Based on your outstanding abilities and your young ages…" Lance raised his eyebrows at Pidge, who pushed up his glasses with his middle finger. "…you five have been selected to take part in a special operatives mission in the Denubian Galaxy."

Graham's face was replaced by a map of the Galaxy Alliance. "As you'll notice, the Denubian Galaxy is at the very outer edge of the Alliance territories."

He zoomed in on the Denubian Galaxy. "The Drule Empire, based on the planet Doom, has a hold of over seventy-five percent of the planets in the galaxy. They invade peaceful planets, drain their resources, and force all inhabitants into slavery. This massive surge of invasions has occurred only within the past six months. The strongest planet in the system next to Doom is Arus, which has held its own until recently. They have asked for our help in locating a secret weapon that could end the Drule invasions; a weapon so powerful it may have the ability to crush the Drule Empire all together."

"With all due respect, sir, why has Arus waited so long to ask for help?" I asked.

"The Arusians are a very proud people and like to fight their own battles. Their allegiance to the Alliance was simply for intelligence on the Drules and back-up support should it be needed. They have come to realize that this war cannot be fought alone."

"What type of secret weapon are we talking about?" Lance inquired.

"Decades ago, the people of Arus unearthed an ancient technology that had been lost to time: the mighty robot Voltron. Thought to have been created from the great Lion Warriors of Ariel, Voltron was indeed a force to be dealt with. He fought for peace in the galaxy, fending off Drule invasions and thus heavily damaging their attack forces."

"What happened? How did they lose Voltron?" Hunk asked.

"Voltron developed an ego and believed that he could never be destroyed. The wicked Drule witch Haggar lured Voltron into a trap where he succumbed to a near-fatal attack. Voltron broke apart into five separate robot lions which lay hidden on Arus."

"Sir, since when do robots develop egos?" Lance asked.

"Voltron is no ordinary robot," a voice in the back of the room spoke. Sven continued, "The Lion Warriors were skilled mechanics, especially in the realm of artificial neurology. They possessed a mysterious technology which they infused into their machines. This magic—for lack of a better word—allowed the machines to feel emotions as well as function mechanically. Their mecha also could form…relationships…with their operators."

"Relationships? What? They went on dates, dinner and a movie?"

"Lt. McClain, do not deride what you do not understand. There are technologies in this universe that are far superior to our own," Sven stated coolly.

He crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows at Lance, seeing if he had the nerve to challenge him again. Lance looked as if he had just inhaled his foot.

"You'll find that Lt. Holgersson has extensive knowledge of the Denubian Galaxy," Graham explained.

"You can stop sucking on your toes now," I teased Lance on the side. He secretly punched me in the arm.

"At this time," Graham continued, "the Arusians only have enough resources to repel attacks from Doom. Your mission is to locate and recover the five lions on Arus in hopes to reassemble Voltron. Once Voltron is reassembled, you are to protect the planets of the Alliance against the Drule attacks."

"Why not just take out Doom once we've got Voltron back?" Lance asked.

"The rulers of Arus have made it clear that Voltron is to be used as a defense system only."

"That's ridiculous! This war could be over in days if we attack first."

"Lieutenant, need I remind you of Galaxy Garrison's policy to respect and honor the rules, traditions, and customs of alien worlds?"

"Even if it's killing them?"

"If you find the lions and reassemble Voltron, you are under strict orders to defend the Alliance planets only. Is that clear?"

"Aye-aye, Marshal," Lance huffed.

I also didn't like the idea of using Voltron as only a defense mechanism, but the Garrison's policy, and apparently Arus, were firm on the matter. I was never one to disobey orders.

"When do we leave for Arus?" I asked the question in the back of everyone's minds.

"You will need to complete three weeks of intensive training to prepare for the mission first. Colonel Petersen will lead you in your exercises, which begin this afternoon. Additionally, you will all undergo physical exams immediately after this meeting. I will give you further details this afternoon. Again, welcome to the Galaxy Garrison, gentlemen. I am positive you won't let us down."

Graham gave a final salute and ended the video conference.

Petersen rose to his feet. "One more order of business before I dismiss you for your physicals, men. The Garrison has appointed Lt. Keith Kogane as the team leader for this mission. Lieutenant Kogane, please stand."

Overwhelmed yet restrained, I rose to my feet. "Lieutenant Keith Akira Kogane, you are hereby promoted to the rank of Commander of the Voltron Force."

I was in disbelief—promoted to a commander only a few days of graduation! I stiffened and saluted as the colonel pinned my new rank on my lapel. He returned the salute. "Congratulations, Commander Kogane. We expect the highest quality of leadership from you."

"Sir, yes sir! Thank you, sir."

"Alright men, the physicians are waiting. I will see you again at 1300 hours at the training facilities. You are dismissed."

The team headed to the door, each one congratulating me as they left. I was about to follow Lance out when the colonel stopped me.

"One more thing before you leave, Commander."

"Yes, sir?"

He closed the door to the conference room, and his tone became casual. "I know you understand that the Garrison is a non-discriminatory organization in all respects of the term according to their written policies. I also know that the opinions of many officers, human and alien, towards homosexuality are unfavorable. Ultimately it's your decision on how you want to proceed with any relationships, but I would strongly urge you to keep your preference under wraps until you get a better feel for those around you."

I swallowed hard. "Thank you, sir, for your advice. I will keep it in mind."

"Congratulations, again, Commander. You are dismissed."

I left the room and found Lance waiting. "What was so important that he needed to speak to you alone?"

"Just…more information about the mission."

"He wants you to crawl back into the closet, doesn't he?"

Lance knew me too well sometimes. I nodded and felt his hand wrap around my shoulders. "Hey, it's okay. I'm here whenever you need to vent."

I smiled. "Come on; we're going to be late."

"Aye-aye, Commander," Lance saluted me.

"You're never going to let this one go, are you?"

"No way in hell."

* * *

><p><strong>*<strong>Translation:

_"How do you do."_  
>"<em>I'm well, and you?"<em>  
><em>"I am also well, thank you."<em>  
>"<em>That's good. Are you parents Japanese?"<em>  
><em>"My father was. And your parents?"<em>  
><em>"Ah, my mother is."<em>  
><em>"Very good. It's nice to meet you."<em>  
><em>"And you."<em>  
><em>"Thank you."<em>

*** ***Direct quote from _The Core. _I cannot take credit for writing that perfect-for-Pidge statement. *sigh*


	5. Chapter 5

I met with the head nurse before training to review the results of the physicals. Everyone passed with excellent results. Some of Lance's blood work indicated his liver enzymes were on the higher end of normal, but nothing was outside of the accepted levels. All team members were a go medically for the mission.

I reported the good news to everyone upon arriving at the training facilities. Lance blew a sigh of relief, as if he anticipated some sort of rejection. He said he cleaned himself up, so I guessed the slightly off results were just residuals from his uncontrolled drinking of the previous month.

Colonel Petersen arrived promptly at 1300 hours. "Welcome to special ops training, men. I will run you through some of the basics, but for the majority of the training, you will lead each other. Commander Kogane, as a martial arts expert, we expect you to train your team in hand-to-hand combat. You are also in charge of developing battle strategies and flight plans. Finally, this mission is expected to be very stressful. We would like you to also train your team basic meditative techniques to help them maintain clear, collected minds."

It was a no-brainer. I studied various martial arts since I was a toddler and held multi-degree black belts in most of them.  
>f<br>"Lieutenant McClain, with your astounding piloting skills you are in charge of leading flight drills. The Garrison has also informed me that they would like you to review Western-style hand-to-hand combat. They feel that you have ample practice in this field."

"Yeah, I managed to kick a few asses in the Academy."

"Indeed." Petersen cleared his throat. "Stoker, you will instruct the team in various informations systems, particularly cross-platform systems. You are also to develop several encryption codes and cracking programs with the team. Garrett, you are in charge of instructing the team on alien mechanics and weapons systems. And finally Holgersson, you will inform the team of Arusian history, language, and customs as well as all intelligence we have on Doom and the Drules in the Denubian galaxy."

Petersen handed out our mission binders and led us on a tour of the training facilities.

I could go into great detail about the tour, from the gym to the simulators to the computer systems, but really, it's not that exciting apart from the state of art equipment at our disposal. I could also go into detail about the meetings we attended for the rest of the afternoon, during which we reviewed our mission binders and went over the extremely detailed training schedule. Again, boring-ass shit to anyone not directly involved in this operation. Heck, even Lance and Hunk were yawning pretty good by the end of the day. At one point I swear Lance was literally sleeping with his eyes open. I wasn't too thrilled myself, but my new rank dictated that I demonstrate concentration and interest towards everything related to the mission.

**x~x~X~x~x**

After another barrage of meetings over dinner, we settled in to our new quarters and enjoyed the evening off. Sven, it turns out, had a similar interest in fine wines as me. I poured each of us a glass of an aromatic Pinot Noir from the Willamette Valley. We settled on to the couch and struck up a conversation. He talked about his life in Europe, compared training experiences, and how he already missed his family. I chimed in every now and then, but focused mostly on his handsome features—the way his dark eyes lit up when he talked about different cultures, the way he smiled brightly when I cracked a witty joke, the way every strand of his dark hair fell just so into the right place. If I hadn't already committed myself to the lost cause known as Lance, I could fall hard for Sven.

My reverie was broken when Lance, Hunk, and Pidge decided it was time for Wrestle Mania on the living room floor.

"You two don't stand a chance against me!" Hunk's voice boomed.

"You may have muscle, but we're faster," Lance replied, dodging Hunk's attack.

"Based on the amount Pidge drank tonight, soon it'll be just you and me, buddy," Hunk retorted.

"Hey!" Pidge exclaimed. "I know exactly how I will be affected by the alcohol. I've charted out how much I drink and what effect it will have on me given the time from consumption. I've got a long way to go before I pass out."

He crawled between Hunk's legs. Hunk, reaching for Pidge, lost his balanced and flipped onto his back.

"The bigger they are, the harder they fall," Lance snickered.

"Never mess with the computer geek," Pidge concluded, realigning his glasses on his face.

Sven and I applauded the results of the match. Lance hoisted Pidge, who was celebrating his victory, onto his shoulders. "I think I've spotted our next targets," Lance mentioned, staring us down.

"On that note," I said, finishing the rest of my glass, "I'm heading off to bed. We have an early start tomorrow. I suggest all of you follow suit."

"But we were just getting started!" Lance whined. I glared at him. "Okay, okay…just playing around. I'll be there in a little bit."

He set Pidge down. "We'll finish this tomorrow night," he winked to Pidge.

Everyone scattered off to their rooms. Sven took the one single room, while Pidge and Hunk shared a double. Big surprise that Lance and I shared the other double room. I waited in bed while Lance got ready and eventually flopped down in just his boxers. "So, you and Sven seemed to hit it off pretty good, huh?"

"It's not like that. I don't think he bats for the same team," I sighed.

"Do you know that for a fact? Does he have a special girl in the EU? Did you ask?"

"No—I don't know. It's not a topic that can be easily integrated into our conversations."

"But you like him, don't you?"

"Yeah, but…Bah, never mind. It'd be a bad idea, anyway."

"You'll never know unless you ask," he concluded. If only he knew how deep those words went for both of us.

I remained silent. Getting the drift, Lance crawled under his sheets. "Good-night, Commander," he saluted drunkenly.

I rolled my eyes. "Good-night, Lance," I responded, turning off the light. _I love you, Lance._

**x~x~X~x~x**

For the next week, training was intense, but we all learned quickly. Even Lance managed to stay awake during Sven's lectures. Well, most of them. Though I swear he was hiding something, the way he slunk back in his seat and always fidgeted with his uniform pockets.

For our hard work and patience, and for appearing as he main attraction at a Garrison fundraiser, Petersen let us take a night off. No sooner had we been told than Lance popped the cap off of a beer and downed it. "Freedom!" he shouted.

"Take it easy, big guy, we're still training," I reminded him.

"Oh, lighten up, Kogane. Enjoy the night; let loose a bit!"

He handed a bottle of red wine and a cork screw to me. "I've been saving this for you. The guy at the store said it was pretty decent, for what I could afford."

He set down two wine glasses in front of me. "You don't like wine, Lance."

"Who said _I_ was going to drink it with you?" he winked.

I blushed, understanding his implication. Sven came up from behind me and took the bottle from my hands, inspecting the label. "I have not heard of this brand before. Is it any good?"

"I thought I would try something new," I answered, covering for Lance.

"Well, then, let's have a taste, shall we?"

Lance patted my shoulder and winked once more before answering a call. He talked briefly before heading towards the door. "You boys have a fun night; I'm going out on the town," he grinned widely.

"No fair," Pidge protested. "You know I'm too young to get in anywhere! And Keith and Sven are so boring when it comes to having a good time."

"Chillax, buddy. Hunk will stay and keep you company, won't he?"

"Uh, yeah, of course, I guess," Hunk replied, rubbing the back of his head. I could tell he wanted to get out as much as Lance, but Lance had manipulated the evening plans of everyone else so that he would be alone.

"Excellent. Catch you all later!"

"Lance, wait," I stalled him, walking over to the door.

"What's up, Cap?"

"Don't forget we're still on duty, and you have a curfew. Be back no later than midnight or you will be considered AWOL, got it?"

"You know, you look kinda cute when you get all serious."

He messed up my hair a bit. "Midnight," I repeated, batting his hand out of the way.

"Yeah, yeah, midnight…" he trailed off before leaving.

I shook my head. "That man can be impossible sometimes," I sighed.

Sven handed me a glass of wine. "Lance is a big boy. He can take care of himself."

I smiled in thanks and inhaled the sweet-earthy blend aroma. Definitely not a top of the line brand, but better than nothing.

"C'mon, Hunk," Pidge started. "Let's see what kind of MMORPG we can hack into and pwn."

Hunk carried an armful of beer and snacks into their room. He shut the door with his foot and the latest industrial tracks blasted from behind.

"Well," I started, taking a seat on the couch, "looks like it's just the two of us."

Sven joined me. "That is not such a bad thing. I prefer the quiet—er, mostly quiet," he mentioned, looking towards Hunk and Pidge's room.

"I agree," I responded. "To quiet conversations," I toasted, taking a sip of the wine. It was sweeter than I expected and had a pleasant aftertaste.

**x~x~X~x~x**

Two hours later, and several trips by Hunk back to the kitchenette to retrieve more snacks, I had finished off three glasses of wine. What the hell was I doing? I never drank that much. My body would remind me sometime around 3 AM, I'm sure. And being such a light drinker normally, I was definitely feeling the effects of the alcohol.

Sven continued to talk, but I wasn't really focused on what he was saying anymore. Instead, I drunkenly gazed into his dark eyes and watched his mouth carefully form words. As he took another sip of wine, his lips caressed the rim of the glass and his tongue poked out to gather the last few drops on the bottom. I gulped, watching his Adam's apple bob in his muscular neck as he swallowed.

Lance's words from last week echoed in my mind. _You'll never know unless you ask._ Not once had Sven given any clue to his orientation. Our conversations were always about military or country or politics. I inhaled shakily, mustering up the courage. _You'll never know unless…_ "Sven, there's something I've been meaning to ask you."

"Absolutely. You can ask me anything, Keith." So far, so good.

"I was wondering if…" _God, that sounded stupid._

The way he gazed intensely at me with such interest caused me to choke on my words. "If?"

I kept staring at his lips. _You'll never know…_

I don't know what came over me, but before I realized what I was doing, my lips were on his, moving softly. He didn't reciprocate.

I dared to open my eyes and saw his confused, yet smiling face. I flushed brightly. "Really, Keith, I am flattered, and you are a very attractive man, but…I'm not gay."

_Oh shit, what did I just do?_ If my face was red before, I was defining a new category of blush now. I could even feel the heat radiating away from my face. I leapt up, attempting to make a beeline for my room, but Sven grabbed my wrist and pulled me back. "Keith, it's okay. I'm not upset."

I couldn't look at him. "Come on, sit back down. Let's talk about this."

"I…I'm sorry. I don't know why I did that. I…just…shit, I feel embarrassed as all hell." I dropped my head into my hands, burying my face.

"The last thing I want is for this to have a negative impact on the team and the mission. I told you, I'm not upset. I know you feel embarrassed, but you don't have to. I won't let this make things awkward between us."

"And you won't tell anyone?"

"Keith, you have my word. You know, my brother is homosexual, too. I have kept his secret from our parents for ages. They are less accepting of these relationships, unfortunately."

I turned to look at him. He appeared genuinely caring and concerned. "Are you okay, then?"

I inhaled deeply and nodded. "Just don't be surprised if I blush more than usual around you for the next few days."

That's when I heard the shouting coming from outside. Lance's voice dueled with that of an unknown male. "Oh, hell," I grumbled.

I sprang to my feet and threw open the front door. Lance and Todd stood in the middle of the street arguing loudly. I couldn't hear exactly what was said, thanks to them shouting over each other and the music pouring out from Hunk and Pidge's room.

"Closet case!" "Fuckhead!" "…see me in public?" "…no relationship…" "…toying with my emotions? I don't have time for…" "Who cares! I'm being shipped off this planet in…" "…falling in love with you! You were just using me!"

With that, Todd's fist connected with Lance's eye. Lance teetered back and fell to the ground, while Todd fled from the scene. I rushed over to Lance; blood dripped from one nostril and his left eye rapidly became swollen. "Hey, Keith, how was your night?"

"Lance, what the hell happened?" I asked, helping him to his feet and guiding him into the apartment.

"Todd and I had a little disagreement," he slurred, obviously drunk…again.

"You want to talk about it?"

"Nothing to talk about. Just get me an ice pack and another brewsky and I'll be good."

"Lie down on the couch," I commanded, propping a pillow under his head to elevate it. Sven tossed me an instant ice pack which I place over Lance's swollen eye. I also gave him a wet cloth to clean off his nose.

Hunk appeared from his room to retrieve even more snacks and stopped suddenly when he saw Lance. "Whoa…"

"Hurry up, Hunk, or we're going to miss the raid. Why are you just standing there?" Pidge squawked.

He poked his head around Hunk. "Whoa! What happened?"

"Genius here thought it would be a good idea to get a black eye in the middle of training," I grumbled.

"Apparently he doesn't want to pilot for the next week," Sven added.

"Hey, I can still fly. I'll be ready to go in the morning. Just let me sleep off this headache. And where's my beer?"

"Get a clue, Lance. You're done drinking for the night," I scolded, throwing a bunched up blanket on him. "Sweet dreams, moron."

I stormed off into my own room, slamming the door loudly.

_Why did he go see Todd again?_ Too emotionally charged from the night's events, I collapsed into a half-lotus and began listening to my breath, calming it, controlling it. I least I had control over one thing.


	6. Chapter 6

Lance seemed remarkably better in the morning. The swelling had nearly dissipated, leaving a large brownish-red spot in its wake. He still couldn't open his eye more than half way.

"I'm changing the schedule for today," I announced at the morning meeting, glaring at Lance the entire time. "Mechanics and Drule battle strategies are moved to today. We'll hit the simulators tomorrow when Lance can see properly again."

"I can see just fine," Lance spoke dryly.

"Okay, what about your shaky hands? Think those are good to pilot with?"

"It's only a simulation, sheesh."

"Lance, everything about this training needs to be treated like the real thing. When we're light years away from Earth, we can't just tell the computer to end the simulation."

Lance crossed his arms and huffed back into his seat, annoyed and defeated.

After the meeting Lance stepped outside for some fresh air and a quick smoke. I followed him outside knowing that we would be stuck within the training compound for most of the day. Fresh air sounded great right now. Plus, I didn't quite trust what Lance might do alone. My instincts proved to be correct when I saw him reach into his uniform and pull out a flask. He took a long swig, and then placed it back in his pocket.

"What are you doing?" I asked, startling him.

"Getting some fresh air, what does it look like?"

"Come on, Lance, I saw you take a drink."

He lit up a cigarette, and then turned to face me. "And?"

"We're training for a long-term campaign. You can't go around drinking whenever you feel like it. It's against protocol; you know that."

He stepped forward so our noses almost touched. "What are you going to do about it, Commander?"

His _I don't give a shit_ attitude was wearing down my patience. Too many times in the past I had let him slip by under the radar. He thought I didn't know; I had simply looked the other way. The seriousness and implications of this mission were too important to allow him to slip up again. "I need to report this."

He blew a puff of smoke in my face. "Go ahead. See if I give a damn," he responded, challenging my authority.

"Lance, don't do this. You know how important this mission is."

He was about to retort when his phone buzzed. "Yeah?" he answered, his expression instantly changing to on of fear. "He's what? Fuck. No, sorry. I said sorry! Yeah, I'm still on Earth. Okay, I'll see what I can do. I'll call you back."

He disconnected the call. "Fuck," he whispered sadly.

"What's going on?"

"It's my uncle. He's in the hospital; apparently there was some sort of accident. They don't think he'll make it to the morning."

"Which uncle?"

"What do you mean 'which uncle'? The only one that fucking matters!"

I remembered him talking about his uncle the way someone else would talk about an idolized father. I wasn't exactly sure what his home life had been like, but I got the impression his uncle "saved" him from whatever craziness his parents inflicted on him.

His face was a mixture of confusion and sorrow. His lips quivered as he drew in another dose of nicotine.

"I gotta go to Nebraska to see him, Keith. You can write me up for being AWOL and arrest me when I get back or whatever the fuck you want to do, but I can't stay here."

I was conflicted. Lance was my best friend; hell, the man I loved. It pained me to see him in utter distress about something. He was always calm and focused when faced with difficult situations. Hotheaded, maybe, but he never let a trying challenge pull him down like this.

What if it were me in his shoes? What if my parents had died in the middle of training? I probably would have made the same demands. Once again, for Lance, I folded. "Go. I'll make some calls. They'll be pissed, but I'll get the punishment reduced. There's small shuttle at the Alameda County Air Field that I inherited from my parents. You're free to use it if you seriously think you're okay to fly. I only request that you be back by morning drills tomorrow."

He gulped and nodded. "Thank you," he almost inaudibly whispered.

**x~x~X~x~x**

I was in a fog the rest of the day. I tried to maintain as much focus as I could, but my mind drifted to Lance and to flashbacks of my own parents' deaths when I was younger. The pain is something you can never really express to others. And everyone deals with it in their own way. I hoped Lance would find a healthy outlet and not drown his sorrows in alcohol.

At about 2 AM I received a call from Lance's phone. "You back in town?" I answered.

"This is the Alameda County Emergency Room. Am I speaking with Keith Kogane?"

My heart fell to my stomach and my throat went dry. "Yes, ma'am, it is."

"Mr. Kogane, we have Lance McClain here currently in detox. He's been asking for you. We tried calling who we thought were his parents, but they claimed they had no son. Mr. McClain said to call you."

"I understand. I will be there shortly."

_Shit, Lance, what did you do?_

**x~x~X~x~x**

A nurse met me at the front desk and escorted me through the ER. As we walked by several rooms of recovering patients he gave me the rundown of Lance's situation. "The EMT was called to a bar in town where he was passed out and turning blue. They began an IV immediately and managed to wake him to a semi-conscious state. His blood alcohol concentration was at point three-four."

"Point three-four?" _Jesus, Lance, why didn't you just call me?_ "How is he now?"

"He's alert. We have another saline IV in him and have inserted a catheter into his urethra until he's capable of using the toilet on his own."

"How much longer does he need to stay?"

"We'll keep him overnight for observation and hydration. Then the doctor will meet with him privately in the morning. He should be okay to check out after that."

We arrived at Lance's room and the nurse pulled back the curtain. He rested on his side in a hospital gown, IV tubes running to his arm and a urine bag attached to the end of the bed. Over his shoulders was draped an old leather bomber jacket. He stared blankly at a news broadcast on the video screen.

"We also had to give Mr. Stubborn a mild sedative since he refused to cooperate once he fully awoke."

"Fuck off," Lance mumbled.

"He has a delightful personality, doesn't he?"

"You should see him sober."

"Well, I'll leave you two to talk. If you need anything, just call. My name is Jeremy, and I'll be his nurse until the morning."

I nodded in thanks and waited for Jeremy to close the curtain before I spoke. Lance beat me to it. "You two would hit it off."

Though he was playing around, his voice was monotone and lackluster.

"Who?"

"You and Jeremy. You're both Asian homosexuals and control freaks."

"I'm Hawaiian," Jeremy responded from outside the curtain. "Plus, my husband might get upset if I started seeing another man."

"Oh well, can't say I didn't try."

Once I heard Jeremy move on, I confronted Lance. "How do you feel?"

"Terrific. I got a needle stuck in my arm and a tube up my dick. How the fuck do you think I feel?"

"What happened, Lance? Why'd you do this to yourself?"

He remained silent and wrapped the jacket tighter around him. I let out an exacerbated breath, running my hand through my hair. "Lance, I know you're hurting inside, but you could have killed yourself drinking like this. If you can't cut back, the Garrison is going to kick you off the team. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Are you going to ruin your chance and end up getting a dishonorable discharge?"

"I can't…I have nowhere to go now," he whispered, avoiding eye contact.

I thought back to the nurse on the phone telling me that his parents claimed to have no son. _What happened in Nebraska?_ For now, I wasn't going to press him about it. He needed to sober up first.

"Will you let me help you?"

"If I do, you have to promise me you won't tell anyone about this."

"I think the team has a right to know."

"No. This is something I have to deal with, not them. Leave them out of it."

"Okay, I won't say anything." Why was it so difficult to say _No_ to him?

I'm sure the truth of the matter was that he felt too embarrassed by his actions. He would die before his pride was shattered by his faults.

Lance fell asleep soon after our conversation. I managed to drift off for a little bit, despite the discomfort of sleeping upright in a chair.

**x~x~X~x~x**

At the morning meeting I reorganized the schedule yet again to give Lance some peace of mind before entering the simulators. I figured some hands-on work might do him well, so the morning was focused on martial arts and long-range target practice while the afternoon centered on mechanics and code cracking. I had a tough time watching him work on the computers. Hunched over in front of the screens, his leg jittered uncontrollably, he constantly bit at his nails, and the back of his neck dripped with sweat. I suggested that he remove the leather jacket to cool down, but he refused vehemently.

His withdrawal symptoms became more apparent after we were dismissed for the evening. He couldn't sit still and constantly needed his hands occupied with something. After dinner he headed straight for the bathroom and expelled everything he had just eaten. When he emerged looking sickly pale, I walked him into the bedroom to lie down.

"I can't do this, Keith. I need it all to go away."

"You've been doing great so far. The doctor said it would take several days before…"

"I don't have the patience to go through this for several days. I can't perform like this. I need a drink to settle down. Just one drink. I can have just one, right?"

I sat next to him and covered his shaky hands with one of my own steady ones. "No more alcohol, not even one drink, Lance."

He turned his head away from me, pulling at his hair with his hands. I couldn't fathom what emotional turmoil he was experiencing. He was angry and frustrated and annoyed and depressed all at once. It looked like he wanted to burst out screaming as much as burst out crying. In the end, a combination of the two won out, a maddening sound for a man to make.

I remained calm next to him, soothing him until he was too exhausted to continue. He drifted off into a listless sleep afterwards. Emotionally drained myself, I headed to bed early, not really wanting to leave Lance alone for very long.


	7. Chapter 7

Rolling over in bed, I awoke and groaned after reading the time on the alarm clock._Too early._ Guess that's what I get for going to bed so early. I climbed out of bed and looked towards Lance who was still out cold, though his body jerked around from what I assumed were either spasms or bad dreams. I rubbed his shoulders gently until he calmed.

Needing to kill some time before practice, I jogged to my favorite park spot and completed a few T'ai Chi exercises followed by meditation. I quietly prayed to my ancestors for the strength and guidance to help Lance through his ordeals.

When I returned the rest of the team ambled around the apartment, getting ready for the day. Lance, still wrapped up in that leather jacket, looked terribly sullen and shakey. "We don't have to fly in the simulators today, you know," I mentioned quietly.

"No, I need to. Flying is what keeps me going, even if it's just a simulation. I'll be okay."

I nodded. Maybe it would be good for him to get back into the pilot's seat.

After the morning briefing, we headed to the simulators. The Garrison, with limited help from Arus, knew very little about the structure and mechanics of the lions. They programmed what they did know into the simulators, which resulted in essentially souped-up versions of their top fighters.

"Remember, team," I announced once they were settled into their simulators, "today's objective is to use efficient battle strategies to cut attack time in half and conserve resources. The faster we can eliminate an enemy, the less likely they are to do damage to the citizens of the planet. I'm implementing some new and unusual attack formations today, so be prepared. Go ahead and launch spacecraft."

I inserted my key and the simulator roared to life. "Pidge, run program beta-six-two-six."

"Aye-aye, Commander."

"Enemy ships approaching," Sven announced. "Twenty Drule fighters at two-five-three mark one-zero."

"Maintain altitude. Hold pitch steady. Prepare for battle formation delta-zeta-niner on my mark."

"Drule fighters within range."

"Now!" I commanded, giving the signal.

Our ships fell into formation as the Drule ships appeared on the view screen, launching into attack. "Fire photon canons!" I commanded.

A barrage of photon missals collided with the ships, doing heavy damage. "They are still firing on us," announced Hunk.

"Increase power to shields and fire thermal torpedoes when ready."

The small metal objects detected the heat from the damaged Drule ships and exploded on impact. "Twelve ships destroyed, the rest are retreating," Pidge cried out.

"Way to go, team!"

"Don't celebrate yet, Hunk. Twenty new fighters and five battle ships coming in at two-five-niner mark eight," Sven warned.

"Execute formation gamma-four."

The simulator fighters shifted into a new position with Hunk flanking Pidge and Sven flanking Lance. I rose to a higher altitude and fell back.

"Ten more Drule fighters approaching two-five-zero mark eight!" Sven called out.

"Maintain your positions."

"This is suicide," Pidge nervously mumbled.

"Drule ships within range," Sven announced.

"Hold steady," I ordered.

I heard Lance tapping nervously at his controls. "C'mon, Keith, they're in range. What're you waiting for? Let's take the bastards out!"

"Calm down, Lance. Wait for my command."

"Order it NOW. Let's go after them."

"Do NOT leave your partner, Lance. Wait for my order."

"This is a mistake," he grumbled under his breath.

"Charge gamma ray bursts."

The Drule ships came into view. "Fighters are charging weapons!"

"Steady, team," I reassured.

My weapons panel indicated that all but one of the fighters were fully charged. "Lance, charge your gamma rays now!"

"Screw this, I'm going in," he announced, breaking formation and flying away from the team.

"Lance, get back and cover me! I'm wide open!" Sven shouted. "_Faen!_"

"Lance, get your ass back into formation!"

I was livid. My strategy would only work if all five of us fired in unison. Lance had left the team completely exposed to the Drule attack, not to mention disobeying my orders in the middle of a battle. "Lance!"

Lance flew back around, firing laser canons at the Drule ships. They assaulted our fighters with every weapon they had available. "Shields up! Evasive maneuvers!" I cried out.

It was too late. The heavy artillery of the battle ships took us out easily. "Computer, end simulation!" I shouted, infuriated.

Throwing open the door and jumping out of the simulator, I headed straight for Lance. Sven stormed over to him first and grabbed him by the collar. "What the fuck, Lance? You killed us all! What kind of dumb-fuck move was that?"

I was in shock. Sven never swore and rarely showed signs of even being upset.

"Get your filthy European hands off of me!"

"You're a fucking liability to this team! What's going to happen when we're in deep space and the Drules attack? Are you going to disobey orders then, too, and get us killed for real?"

Lance pushed at Sven until he was released. His fist reeled back and punched Sven square in the nose. Sven stumbled backwards, wiping away the blood dripping over his lips. "That's enough, you two!" I ordered.

Lance continued to assault Sven, kicking him in the ribs before he had a chance to react. A few more punches later and Sven was on the ground. "Stand down, Lieutenant!"

Lance swung his head around, eyes full of rage. "You did NOT just pull rank on me, Kogane!"

"You heard my order!"

"Fuck you!"

He burst towards me, fists at the ready. I braced my feet and easily flipped him onto his back. He landed with a gruesome thud. I rolled him onto his stomach and pinned his arms behind his back. He struggled with all he had, but I held him tightly. "Hunk, Pidge, call the infirmary."

"Let me go, Kogane!" Lance spat through gritted teeth.

"One more word from you and I'm knocking you out, Lieutenant!"

"Go to hell!"

With that, I jabbed sharply at his neck and he fell into unconsciousness.

**x~x~X~x~x**

Chaos ruled for the next few hours. Medical and administrative personnel hounded me all morning with the same questions over and over. When I finally was able to break away from their pursuit, I checked in on Sven. The doctor diagnosed him with a broken nose, three fractured ribs, and several contusions. He rested uncomfortably with a bandaged torso and nose. The morphine in his IV line made him drowsy, so my visit was short.

Next I visited Lance. He was positioned on his back and restrained at the wrists and ankles. The doctors administered a strong sedative while he was passed out in fear that he might erupt when he woke.

"What's the verdict?" he asked flatly, staring at the ceiling.

"The jury's still out. I told them about the drinking, Lance."

"Did you tell them I stopped?"

"Yes, but based on your recent behavior they don't think you'll recover. Best option is they'll listen to me and let you off with a short suspension. Worst case…," I paused for a moment.

Lance already new. "Yeah, I get kicked out. Shit, what will I do? This is all I have left." He sounded hopeless.

"Lance, are you ever going to tell me what happened in Nebraska?"

He turned his head away and remained silent, hiding his thoughts from me. "How soon?" he finally asked.

I sighed. "We won't know until later tomorrow what the decision will be. They've cleared you to go back to the apartment for the night, under my direct supervision to make sure you don't run off."

Lance let off a curt laugh. "Like I have anywhere to go."

**x~x~X~x~x**

After signing the discharge papers, I escorted Lance back to our quarters. He slunk off to our bedroom and closed the door behind him. Hunk and Pidge were waiting in the living room, biding their time by building a small mouse-like robot from spare parts that were lying around the place. Hunk really had a talent for turning random shit into something amazing. Or at least some kind of arbitrary robot.

"How's Sven?" Pidge asked.

"Sore, but he'll be fine. And upset, of course."

"And Lance?"

I simply shook my head. No words could be used to describe his situation at this point. Or I just didn't have the energy to discuss it anymore.

"What about the mission?" Hunk finally asked the question we were afraid to ask.

"They won't replace Sven, so it's delayed until he recovers. Lance is the uncertainty factor. If they kick him off, they'll need to find a couple of replacements."

"A couple?"

"I'm not going if he's not going."

"Why!" Hunk and Pidge clamored together.

"It's...complicated," was all I could muster up for an explanation.

My whole military career could be up in smoke because of my decision, but it was the only strategy I could foresee working in the favor of Lance. They were going to kick him to the street as soon as they found out, but I bought him some time. I was their golden boy, the one person they would kneel before in order to keep. I needed to do what I could to protect his career, even if it meant risking mine.


	8. Chapter 8

Lance didn't emerge from the room once all night. I checked on him from time to time, only to find him on the bed staring off into space. I tried to get him to talk, but he silently refused every time. There was a time I wished he would shut up and listen to others. Now I missed his inappropriate jokes and our inane conversations.

Hunk and Pidge weren't up for talking much, either. The whole team had become crestfallen, fearing an impending disaster. I was their commander. It was my responsibility to motivate and rekindle their passion for the mission, and yet I was letting them down. What the hell was I thinking? Was Lance really worth risking my career?

My head ached as patterns danced before my eyes against the bare wall. I rubbed my hazy eyes, realizing that exhaustion fought against my wishes to stay awake. Deciding to fight the battle a bit longer, I rose to check in on Lance once more.

Turning the doorknob to the bedroom, I yawned deeply, again massaging away my eyestrain. "Anything I can get for you?" I wearily asked.

Upon opening my eyes, my heart thudded in my chest – he was gone. I shut my eyes and shook my head. Maybe I just imagined it. I opened my eyes and focused again on his bed, but it was in vain. Lance was no longer in the room.

Frantic, I shouted out to the living room, "Hunk? Pidge? Did you see Lance walk out?"

I poked around other rooms searching for him, hearing their negative responses. "What's going on?" Pidge nervously asked.

"He's gone."

They rushed to the bedroom with me. "What do you mean gone? Oh!" Hunk exclaimed pointing at the wide-open window with slashed screen.

"Oh no…"

I bolted to it and leaned outside. We were about two stories up in a four-story building. Pipes ran down the side near the window. I looked down and I looked up, contemplating which direction he chose. He wouldn't have run away; he made too many statements today about having nowhere else to go. That could only mean he climbed up to…

"The roof!" I yelled as I sprinted out of the apartment.

_Damn, Lance, what are you doing?_

I flew up the stairwell and burst through the roof door. I twisted around, anxiously searching for Lance. I finally spotted him sitting, legs dangling over the edge, at the south end of the building staring up at the stars. "Lance?" my voice strained with worry and caution.

His shoulders stiffened upon hearing my voice. "Please, just leave me alone," he grumbled.

I cautiously approached his hunched-over form blanketed by the old leather jacket.

He twitched as my footsteps sounded. "Keith, stop. Don't come any closer," he warned.

"Lance, just move away from the ledge and let's talk about this."

He jumped to his feet and moved dangerously closer to the ledge, eyeing the distant sidewalk below. I stopped in my tracks as my heart rate rose and pulsated into my throat. "I said don't come closer."

There was a desperation in his voice and moisture coated his cheeks. "Okay. I'll stop. I…just…can we talk?"

"There's nothing to talk about. My career here is over. My life is in ruins. I have nothing left to hold on to."

"No, it's not over. You don't know what the committee will decide…"

"Keith, I've made a disaster of things. I disobeyed direct orders in battle, theoretically endangering the crew. I hospitalized a critical teammate. I've lost my family and have nowhere to go. And to top it off I'm a lousy drunk who can't even fight off his addiction."

At his last statement he held a flask high in the air. "Like the committee would vote to keep me a part of the team. I've got nothing left."

"What about me? You've got me," I said, daring to take a few more steps in his direction.

"Why on Earth would you give a damn about me anymore? I've abused our friendship and challenged every order you've given as my commander. Hell, we're not even equals anymore."

"Seeing you do these things to yourself these last few months has been murder on me, Lance. I feel so helpless watching you. And every time I try to help get you back on your feet, you push me further away. You're still my best friend, Lance, rank be damned. I don't want to lose you, too."

He shook his head. "You'll get over it. You got over the death of your parents."

"You never get over the death of a loved one. Sure, I've moved forward with my life, but I live with that painful memory every day."

He continued to shake his head, not willing to accept my logic. "No, I'm not worth it."

I panicked. If logic wouldn't work, what would? Lance had always been driven more by emotions than by logic. I realized what I needed to say. "Lance, if you do this,_I'll_ have nothing left to live for."

I resolutely closed the distance between us and stepped on to the ledge next to him. "What are you doing?" Lance asked, a pained look of confusion and panic washing over his face.

"There's a reason my dates never led to anything, you know. I was already in love with someone else."

My eyes locked with his eyes, red and swollen from spilt tears. "It's you, Lance. I love you. It's always been you. It's why I hated all those girls you were with. It's why I wanted to murder you when you were with Todd. It's why seeing you like this, right now, makes me more terrified than anything else I have ever faced, even the death of my parents. If you jump, you kill us both. I _will_ follow."

Tears dripped out of Lance's eyes, and his lips quivered as he processed what I just confessed. He stumbled off the ledge onto the rooftop, immediately falling to his knees and tightly holding himself.

I rushed to his side and pulled him in to my arms. "I love you so much, Lance. Please stay with me. Let me help you."

I kissed the top of his head and rocked him as his overwhelming emotions poured out.

Glancing up, I noticed that Hunk and Pidge stood dumbfounded near the doorway, looking on helplessly. I somehow conveyed to them to get an ambulance, which arrived a short time later.

**x~x~X~x~x**

I never left Lance's side, from the ambulance ride to the hospital to the exams and consultations from the doctors and psychiatrist. When we were alone, Lance finally talked.

"Growing up, my parents were really strict, you know. Nuts, even. My dad drank all the time. Said 'It's what real men do, Lance.' He gave me my first beer at age twelve. I can't remember a time when he was ever sober. He'd even go to church drunk. Never took any anger out on me or my mom; he's was never around to. He spent most of his time working the field or in the bar.

"Mom was a religious nutcase. Some near-death experience before I was conceived made her a born-again. She took everything so literally. I'm amazed she let me stay in contact with my agnostic uncle. She never hugged or kissed me much. Fed me, did chores around the house, and read the Bible. Affectionless bitch.

"My uncle was my one constant and always there when I needed someone to talk to. Practically raised me as his own kid. He encouraged me to be who I wanted to be, even if it meant challenging or going against my parents' beliefs. He was more of a father to me than my own dad.

"And I could count on my friends to be there when I had to get away from home. One night when I was about 14, my parents were out, and I invited my friend, Jim, over. We drank, smoked up a little. That's when I first felt it. I _really_ liked Jim, more than just as a friend. He looked at me the same way I looked at him, and I knew he felt it too. I kissed him. He kissed me back. Before I knew it we were tugging at each other's clothes and rubbing up against each other.

"Then my dad burst in the room; they had come home early. He picked up Jim and threw him outside, cursing and yelling at him never to return. I cowered until my dad returned. He grabbed me by ear and threw me on the floor in front of my mom. I was hounded by them on how wrong it was for a boy to sleep with another boy. Homosexuality was a sin and I would burn in hell for it. If they ever caught or suspected me of doing something like it again, I would be disowned by them forever. I was forced to go to homo rehab at the church. What could I do? I was 14 and didn't want to lose my family no matter how crazy they were. I didn't know any better. So I was forced to bury my feelings.

"My uncle always knew better. He knew who I really was, but was too afraid to be. The more he tried to convince me of this, the more I distanced myself from him. Can you blame me? I didn't want to deal with my parents' wrath again.

"In high school I partied a lot, just like at the Academy. All those girls were just overcompensation. You saw through me, just like my uncle. But I pushed you away and denied it all. It was so easy to deny it by then.

"When I met Todd, I felt like I was 14 all over again. Half of me relished the joy and freedom of being with a man, and half of me couldn't cope with the reaction my family would have if they ever found out. I was confused and conflicted, so I drank the emotions away.

"Then I got the call about my uncle. He had been asking for me nonstop until I arrived. I sat with him in private on his request. He looked at me with pride and with sadness. 'You've accomplished so much in your life, Lance,' he told me. 'But you still hide from yourself. You were always fearless when faced with adversity, except with one important truth. See my leather jacket? Take it; it's yours now. Wear it with pride and acceptance of who you really are. Don't deny your feelings any longer. It's perfectly normal to be gay.'

"He always knew, and he always accepted it.

"He passed away soon after our conversation. I think he was holding on just to see me. My parents prodded me to tell them what we spoke about. I mustered up the courage and told them he said to not hide from myself. They smiled, thinking it was some generic, fatherly advice.

"I told them there was more to it. 'Mom, Dad, I'm…gay,' I finally confessed to them. After burying it for so long, I felt as if an elephant was lifted off my shoulders. Now it sat in the middle of the room.

"My mom was still in denial. 'Don't be silly, Lance. You've had plenty of girlfriends.'

"I told them it was just a rouse helping me hide the truth. I said that I liked men and always would.

"Dad flipped out, shouting things like no son of his would ever be a faggot. Mom cried, praying to her god to save me. I pleaded vainly, telling them I still loved both of them and it shouldn't matter what my preference was. It was useless; their decision was made. I packed my things and left…I guess forever."

Lance's eyes were moist as his last few words cracked out of his dry throat. We waited in silence together. I wanted to hold him, to tell him I was sorry and I would always be there for him. He would always have me to come home to now. But in a way I think he already knew.

He cleared his throat. "So, yeah. That's that."

Another pause. "Keith?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah. Me too."

"You really love me?"

I blushed and twisted out a crooked smile. "Yes, I do."

"Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"Would you have believed me if I did?"

"Probably not. But now…"

"Hmm?"

"Jesus, Keith, I don't think I'm ready for anything yet. I mean, I never even considered you as anything other than a friend. Hell, I'm still getting used to the idea that it's okay for me to date _men_."

"Whoa - who said anything about a relationship? Lance, you need to take care of yourself first and foremost. We can talk about the possibility of us another time. And truthfully, as long as you're in my life in any capacity, I'll be content."

"That sounds so...sappy."

"Well, it's true, but," I continued as a wicked thought came to mind, "if it helps you decide, I've been told I give excellent head."

Lance looked flabbergasted. I couldn't interpret his reaction. "What?"

"Well, I'm not sure if I should be concerned that my best friend just tried to seduce me or that I have a chubby from what he just said."

I chuckled and saw Lance finally smile, but it soon faded.

"Hey Keith?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't tell anyone else than I'm out, okay? I think I should be the one to do it."

"I think that's a good idea. If I can help in any way, you know I've been there before. And don't feel rushed to do it."

"Yeah, but I should do it soon," Lance yawned.

"It's been a long, crazy day. Why don't you go to sleep? I'll be right here when you wake up."

"Promise?"

I grinned. "Promise."

He rolled to his side and let his eyelids fall, drifting off quickly into a deep, peaceful slumber.


	9. Chapter 9

Once I was certain he was out, I briefly abandoned my post next to Lance to check in with the rest of the team. As we congregated in Sven's room, Hunk informed me that he had already filled Sven in on the evening's events.

"He's finally asleep," I announced about Lance.

"I never knew he was so depressed. If I had known, I would never have gone off at him yesterday." Sven's voice was thick with regret.

"None of us knew he was that bad. Not even me," I sighed in response.

Pidge asked the inevitable question. "What's this going to do to the mission now?"

"I don't know, but I'm still holding to my ultimatum. If they dismiss Lance, they will lose me as well," I reaffirmed.

Pidge looked down at his feet. "Hunk and I were talking, and we feel the same. Lance is part of the team, and so are you. We stand with you, no matter what."

"Thanks, Pidge, but you shouldn't abandon this opportunity just for us. I have ulterior motives for staying with Lance. You don't."

"Maybe not, but we sure as hell won't trust another commander. You're the best we've ever seen, and you give a damn about us, too. It's not every day you find a commander with both a head and a heart."

"I will stand with you also," Sven unexpectedly stated. "This team has been my family away from home. I can't imagine feeling that way with another group. If Lance is dismissed, they will need to replace us all."

It finally became apparent to me just how much we all meant to one another. We had forged a bond so strong that it could be the key to defeating the Drule Empire. The Garrison knew this well. If any one of us left the team, the mission would most likely fail, and the Garrison would face the embarrassment for years to come. Hope filled my heart that we would remain united.

**x~x~X~x~x**

"Unacceptable!" Space Marshal Graham exploded from the video screen.

I stood before the committee with Hunk and Pidge at my sides. Sven joined us through video conference from his hospital bed, as did Graham who was off the planet. Petersen mediated the meeting, which also included a Garrison psychologist and two long-term mission specialists. "Your resignations are invalid!"

"Then we will leave the Galaxy Garrison dishonorably, sir."

"This is outrageous! Lieutenant McClain has committed irrevocable violations that place the mission in jeopardy. He cannot be allowed to retain his assignment."

"On the contrary, sir, I believe Lieutenant McClain has shown tremendous growth and strength over the past few days that demonstrate his and our ability to survive any unexpected situation this mission throws at us. Our ultimatum stands. If Lieutenant McClain is dismissed, we will walk away from the mission and the Garrison."

"Sir," Petersen chimed in, "perhaps we should hear from Major Delski about the lieutenant's overnight breakthroughs. Major?"

The tall, curly-haired psychologist presented her findings. "Because of doctor-patient confidentiality I cannot reveal the basis for Lieutenant McClain's decisions. However, I can report that he has already made significant progress that will aid in an easier recovery. He will need to go through extensive psychological counseling before he is deemed fit for the mission, but I see no reason why he would need to be eliminated from the team. He has a strong will and is determined to right his wrongs."

"Is he a liability to the mission?"

"With proper treatment, he will make a full recovery. He will be no more a threat to the mission than he was from the day you chose him for it."

"Sir, if I may speak freely?" I asked impatiently.

"Go ahead, Commander Kogane. Say what you must."

"We've all gone through shitty times in our lives. But we worked through them and became stronger individuals as a result. The timing of Lance's troubles is unfortunate, but I believe he will emerge from them stronger, more determined, more centered, and more humbled than before. He will become more of an asset to our mission than he ever was. Letting him go would be a great disservice to the people of Arus and the Denubian Galaxy."

"We will consider what you have said…and your ultimatum…as we make our decision on the future of Lieutenant McClain. We will call you back in the room when we have reached a consensus. You are dismissed."

We filed out of the room and hovered nervously just outside the conference room door. I called Lance for a video chat.

"What did they say?" he asked immediately.

"They're having the final discussion right now. Hopefully it won't be much longer."

"How do you think it went?"

"Graham seems pretty vehemently against letting you go. Petersen and the psychologist were on your side. I have no idea what the other two were thinking. It really could go either way."

Lance sighed. "Okay. Call me again when you know." He looked downhearted.

"Hey, it's not over yet. Keep your hopes up."

"I'll try. I'm going to go. I don't feel so well."

"Take care. I'll be back soon."

I ended the call and waited another hour before Petersen emerged from the room. "We have a decision."

We made our way back into the tensely silent room. In addition to Graham and Sven, Lance looked back at us from the video screen. Graham spoke first. "Though I cannot understand your recent behavior, Lieutenant McClain, nor the intense unity of your teammates, we will retain your position with the Garrison and with the special ops mission for Arus."

I smiled broadly as Hunk and Pidge high-fived each other. On the screen, Sven nodded in approval and Lance's hands folded over his face.

"However," Graham continued as Lance wiped his tears away, "you must undergo intensive psychological counseling for the next three weeks during which you will also be training with your team members. Thanks to his injuries, Sven will need at least that long to recover properly. Before your departure for Arus, you will be reevaluated by the psychologist who will have the ultimate say in whether you are mentally fit to go. A back-up team will train alongside you in the event Lt. McClain is deemed unfit for the mission. Do you understand these directives, Lt. McClain?"

"Yes, sir. I will exceed your expectations, sir."

"I hope so. There's a lot riding on your shoulders now."

"I won't fail you, sir," Lance spoke with newfound determination.

"The committee is hereby dismissed," Graham ended before terminating his transmission.

I stared at Lance's video feed on the screen. The long-lost spark flickered in the back of his eyes once more.

**x~x~X~x~x**

**Three Weeks Later**

I waited in the mental health clinic's waiting room, my leg shaking with impatience. I never knew what to expect when Lance emerged from the psychologist's office. Sometimes he was somber. Sometimes he was shouting inane accusations at the psychologist. Most of the time, he left with a satisfied smile.

But today was his big evaluation. After undergoing written exams, several interviews, and a physical, he now met with the psychologist to go over the final results. None of my Buddhist training could calm the anxiety I felt for him and the rest of the team.

The door to the back offices opened as Lance and Major Delski said their final words to one another. Lance, standing with his back to me, hugged the psychologist tightly. He turned around and walked towards me with reddened eyes. I sighed heavily, deducing that my days with the Garrison were over. "So, what's the word?"

"I'm sorry, Keith—"

"It's okay. We have our whole lives ahead of us, right?" I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck nervously.

"You didn't let me finish. I'm sorry that we'll be gone from planet Earth for so long. I passed."

I stared incredulously at him. "We're going to Arus?"

"We're going to Arus!" he exclaimed, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as we strolled out of the clinic.

"We have to tell the others!"

"I've already arranged a dinner for the team tonight to tell them everything."

"Everything?"

"Everything," he repeated, stopping and turning to face me. "I'm ready to tell them."

He looked uneasy. "Hey, I'll be there with you, okay?" I reassured.

He nodded. "Keith, you've been there for me through all of this. I don't even know where to begin to thank you. Or how."

"You don't owe me anything, Lance. That you're standing here next to me, still in my life, that's enough."

"Yeah, I am a pretty awesome person, aren't I?" He smiled proudly.

The cocky son-of-a-bitch I knew him to be was back. Screw humility; I missed this side of him. The side that held no fear of what the universe handed to him. The side that always managed to bring a smile to my face, even on my darker days. The side that—

"Earth to Keith: we miss you," Lance suddenly announced, waving a hand in front of my face and breaking me out of my reverie. "Thinking about a tall, dark, and handsome Norwegian?"

I blushed and mumbled, "Already tried that."

Lance's eyebrows rose sky high. "Oh? Do tell."

"Why? Jealous?"

"Maybe. Or maybe I miss hearing about my best friend's exploits."

"You ever gonna tell me about Todd?"

Lance, of all people, turned red and looked down.

"Anyway, there's nothing to tell about Sven. He's not gay."

"And when did you finally figure this out?"

"After I tried to kiss him—wait, you _knew _and you still encouraged me?"

A smug grin spread across Lance's face. "So, about this kiss…"

I socked him hard on the arm and stormed away quickly through the parking lot.

"Remember, Keith, you love me!" he shouted as he caught up with me at my car.

"Yeah, yeah. I love you," I said rolling my eyes.

He beamed at me and I could only laugh back. "Let's go. We have a lot of final prep work to do."

We hopped into my car and drove eastward into the rising sun of a new day.

**THE END**

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **And so we reach the end of the journey. I hope you enjoyed this little piece**. **Ideally, I would write it's counterpart from Lance's perspective, but time is not on my side. Do check out the fun, M-rated epilogue "Happy Birthday to Me." ;-)

And, of course, thank you to Dia for beta reviewing this chapter!


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